


It's In His Fart

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Deliberate Badfic, Farting, M/M, Soulmate AU, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is not into 'love at first fart' but he is into Derek.</p>
<p>(AU where people discover their soulmate when they fart)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's In His Fart

**Author's Note:**

> In my defense:
> 
> 1) The Teen Wolf cast has constantly mentioned something to do with farting so a farting fic was bound to happen.
> 
> 2) I’m not hating on soulmate fics; I actually enjoy reading them. This is purely crack (pun intended) and kind of self-indulgent.
> 
> 3) I promise I’m _not_ still in elementary school...wait, ugh, that doesn’t make this better. **(ignore)**

Stiles Stilinski hates the idea of soulmates. 

He doesn’t believe in the whole ‘love at first fart’ crap or that you are somehow incomplete until you meet your ‘other half’. Ever since he was a child, people kept telling him stories about how happy so and so were when they found each other, and that when you first get a whiff of your mate’s gas you have this wonderful, euphoric feeling. 

“It’s hard to explain,” his friend, Scott, told him with a dopey expression. “It’s like the world suddenly rights itself and everything you never even thought was wrong with your life just isn’t wrong anymore.”

“Bullshit,” Stiles didn’t say.

In school, they teach you that when you turn sixteen you begin to be recognizable to your potential mate. They encourage you to start letting it go so that the vapors can make it to your soulmate’s precious nose. Except they neglect the fact that booty burps _supposedly_ only have a sweet and enticing scent when they belong to your other half, which means that everywhere Stiles goes is oversaturated with the stench of people letting it rip. It is awful and disgusting, especially when he thinks of those who must have gambled on a fart and lost so that they could find their mate (also, all that methane must be bad for the environment. Why is there no law against this?!). 

If Stiles was honest with himself, there was a time when he did naively believe in the concept of soulmates but that was before he discovered that Lydia Martin – the girl he spent most of his life pining for – was not his one true love. No, when they were in high school, she apparently caught the butt aroma of the one and only Jackson Whittemore (who apparently is enough of an _asshole_ that anyone can smell it), and they were stuck together like glue ever since. Add to that, the disturbing reality that not everyone meets their mates and even when they do they might not stay together for long (like when his mom died and on top of the pain he felt, he had to see his Dad try to live without her despite obviously not wanting to), Stiles wanted nothing to do with it. 

He made a vow to never look for ‘the one’ and just enjoy being in relationships and having sex (though that happened later) because no one ever said you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Stiles is thankful that that was when he decided to always wear flatulence filtering underwear and to hold in his farts as much as he could, because that was when Derek Hale entered the picture and everyone knows that werewolf senses are a lot more enhanced when it comes to detecting scents. 

At first, Derek was this annoying aspect of Stiles’ life that he had to deal with since Scott got turned. What was unnerving was that he didn’t know why Derek’s emotionless face, leather jackets and unfair, can-only-be-achieved-if-you-have-werewolf-and-Hale-genes, muscular physique and overall Derek-ness irritated him so much. Then a couple of (more like many) wet dreams involving a certain werewolf with glowing blue eyes made him wonder if the mutual hatred between them was actually built up sexual tension (on Stiles’ part, at least) and if the attraction was reciprocated. It also made him wonder why he never thought that he might like guys as well as girls. 

It was only during the beginning of his eighteenth summer that Stiles discovered that _holy shit, yes,_ the interest is mutual. He was beginning to think that he imagined all those stares that lingered, not only on his eyes or mouth but also on his neck, on his ass when he would bend over or walk in front and on his fingers when he would explain something (seems like Derek has quite the dirty mind). He can’t remember who started what but one minute they were sitting on the couch in Derek’s loft discussing standard supernatural shit and the next they were making out, which became a regular occurrence and then turned into them partaking in sexy times, which also became a regular thing. 

Take right now, for example.

Stiles is lying naked on his back, on Derek’s bed, with an arm resting above him on the pillow. He’s enjoying the post-coital bliss with Derek, when he hears a cute little ‘pft’ sound and the most amazing fragrance hits his nostrils, making him jerk upwards. 

“Did you just fart?” he asks, baffled.

Derek barely looks at him, not due to embarrassment but more because he doesn’t want to face what is coming. “Stiles…”

Fuck.

Stiles gets off the bed, feeling like his world is about to tilt but instead it fixes itself and he finds himself focusing on Derek, not because he specifically wants to but because his vision narrows and Derek seems to be the center of everything. The almost guilty and apprehensive look on his face makes Stiles remember the time something similar happened. Except it was Stiles who cut the cheese after a bout of hot ‘n’ steamy but draining sex and laughed it off, saying something about how awkward it would be if that’s how they find out that they are mates. Since passing wind is common and occurs often, most people find out that they are meant to be together before they become the equivalent of friends with benefits. He remembers believing Derek half wolfed out because he was mad that Stiles stank up his sheets but it was because…because…

_Fuck._

His throat feels tight. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Derek finally gazes at him, “You always said you didn’t want a soulmate.”

“Yeah, but-” he shakes his head in confusion. “You didn’t think it was important enough to tell me?”

He shrugs as if that is all that he wants to say (which would be typical of Derek) but the silence that stretches makes him admit, “I wanted to.”

“Right, like _that_ helps. ‘Oh, sorry I didn’t mention that we share some fucking predestined bond but I wanted to’,” Stiles snorts and tries to stop himself from pacing. “I had a right to know!”

“You wouldn’t have believed me and it wouldn’t have changed anything! Why is it so important?” Derek growls. 

His heartbeat quickens, “Because…cause, I should have known. You should have told me!”

He feels nervous for some reason. Well, he knows why. He entered this no-strings attached, adult-fun arrangement with Derek knowing (subconsciously) that he was probably more attached than he let on. And he didn’t want to wait or look for a soulmate that might never come or want him, so he wasn’t expecting anything other than casual even though he desperately wanted more. Now that Derek and mate are one and the same, he can’t help but think that maybe Derek didn’t tell him because he doesn’t want him. 

Derek comes to stand in front of him and gives him an intense stare, as if searching for something. “Would it have changed anything?”

Stiles stills, “It…” his stomach in knots, “…maybe.” 

The thing is, when Stiles becomes anxious, he also gets gassy so he is not surprised when a puff of his own Eau de Ass escapes. Though, it still surprises him when Derek’s nostrils flare and his blue wolf eyes appear. The most blissed-out expression crosses his face, making him inch forward as if wanting to follow the trail and Stiles can’t believe how he confused it for annoyance the last time. A hint of a smile is curving Derek’s lips and he is looking at Stiles with such heat; it makes him feel dizzy and overcome with emotion. 

Derek cups his cheeks and he seems to know that Stiles is ironically unable to talk right now just like he knows exactly what to say, “Stiles, you _are_ my mate and I love you in spite of it.” He lets their forwards touch gently, “Do you want to be mine?”

Stiles chuckles (who knew Derek could channel heroes from cheesy romance novels?) but nods. 

Good thing he already loves him anyway.


End file.
